When the horses come, white and brave i’ll stay here watching you,
Unless they sweep me up on their journey home,
Horses amassing- hundred and thousands of tight, sinewing muscles under black fur pumping and a couple of whites.
Away, away hurtling down a spiky dune path, where the green sticks are battling,
on and on,
Until we open out onto a thick beach and the horses disappear like a dream.
Mine lingers though, on this
White beach. Misty shoreline.
When I see you on a horse next to me, it’s muscles smoking,
I wonder that I could have thought I left you behind when here we are, dreaming of the same horses.
This poem was based on the pictures I took on Cape Town, South Africa. We went on a morning sunrise ride, and were surrounded in this beautiful white mist.
Enjoy reading 🙂